Wise Magic
by Athenian Gemini
Summary: A collection of short semi-connected one shots detailing the relationship between Malcolm and Lou Ellen. Rating may go up.
1. Contingency Plan

**Okay, so it came to my attention that these two would be super cute and no one has really done anything with them yet so I've decided to do a little collection of short one shots. The characterizations of Malcolm and Lou Ellen are based on the way I play them on my rp blogs since we got to see way too little of them in the books.**

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Malcolm paced. It was really what he did best when life threw him a curve ball he didn't know how to think his way out of and this was one hell of a curve ball. Gaea was rising in a few short weeks if the seven couldn't do... whatever they were planning over in Europe, the hills outside the camp were crawling with monsters and Romans and his sister, Annabeth Chase, who should have been there leading the camp to victory with her brilliant strategies, had just sent them a message from Tartarus. That was the real headache. His sister was in Tartarus. That was a kind of problem he didn't have a plan for, even with his layers and layers of plots and contingency plans.

"Is that your plan?"

Malcolm nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the soft, slight Georgian drawl that announced the presence of his best friend and, until his sister came home, fellow head councilor, "What?"

"Is that your plan?" Lou Ellen repeated, crossing her arms, "You're going to pace through the floor and down into the underworld to save her?"

He blinked at her, never ceasing to be surprised at how she never held anything back. Maybe it was her rough past or maybe it was just a Hecate thing, but there were no pulled punched in Lou Ellen Newmarch's repertoire. He stumbled over how to respond to that, not wanting to admit his short coming to the fiery, dark haired southerner with the scarred knuckles and no-nonsense hazel eyes. She looked tough as nails, as always, but he knew she was soft inside and she depended on him and he was so afraid of failing her. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion, "I... I don't have a plan."

He braced himself for judgment, for the disappointment in her eyes that never came. Instead she crossed the room to him and, despite being nearly a full foot shorter than him, pulled him down to her level, kissing his forehead and smiling sadly at him, "I know."

"But I should-"

"Stop." She ordered firmly, holding his face in her hands so he had no choice but to look her in the eye, "You are a brilliant man, Malcolm, you hear me? Damn brilliant, but there are some things you just can't pre-plan for. Annabeth falling into Tartarus? You'd have to be crazy to pre-plan for that. And I know you ain't crazy."

"I can't fix this." He admitted, "I don't know how to fix this."

"So don't." She advised, "Annabeth is a big girl, she's got herself out of plenty of bad spots and she's got Percy to lean on. She wouldn't want you to get stuck on this. If she were here, you know what she'd say? She'd say, Malcolm, stop laying out spinning impossible problems and deal with those damn, no 'count Romans."

"I don't know what to do about them either." He admitted, his voice so quiet and sorry she almost couldn't hear him, "There's so many..."

"I know." She soothed, pulling him into a hug, "But you will know. You always do. That's why Annabeth leaves you in charge. It's why she believes in you."

Malcolm was quiet a moment, burying his face where her neck met her shoulder, feeling her skin, cool from the walk over from her cabin, against his. His body shook with tears that wouldn't fall as she gently stroked his hair, carefully untangling his undisciplined mass of wavy, curly blonde locks. For a moment, she absently wondered when he'd last made time to brush it. He squeezed her tightly, murmuring into her shoulder, "What would I do without you?"

She chuckled softly, "Oh, probably never shower and have a nervous break down."

He managed a small laugh, which may have been the best sound she'd heard in weeks, pulling back and kissing her cheek, "You're right, you're an angel."

"Don't be ridiculous," She scoffed, "What kind of angel would I make?"

"Exactly the kind I need." He smiled softly, "Now... what are we going to do about all those Romans?"


	2. Peace

He was tired. Beyond the dark circles under his eyes and the way his shoulders slumped, she could see weariness in his usually vibrant gray eyes. It was weighing on everyone, the entire Roman legion hanging out on their door step practically, waiting to swoop in and wipe them out. But Malcolm, he felt responsible, like he had to do something about it, like he had to prove that his sister had made the right choice by making him her second in command and that need scared Lou Ellen more then anything else she could possibly think of. His saving grace may be his tenancy to over think.

"Stop moving." He ordered lazily, pulling her out of her thoughts and back to the situation at hand.

"It tickles..." She complained, lifting her head to look at him as he skimmed the tip of the pen over her skin leaving long dark marks between the freckles that speckled her pale arms. They were laying on the hill below Thalia's tree, enjoying the shade it offered from the sun and the rich smell of earth and grass for perhaps the last time before it tried to kill them.

"It's important." He insisted, "I let you draw flowers all over my arms."

She couldn't argue with that, it had taken a few hours, but he had colorful rose vines creeping from his wrists to his shoulders, so perhaps she owed him. "What are you drawing anyways?"

"Attack plans." He muttered, clearly concentrating, "For when the war starts..."

"You can't do that on paper?" She demanded.

"Hush." He scolded gently, "You inspire me."

"Perfect," She sighed lightly and sarcasticly, laying her head back against the grass, "I've always wanted to inspire violent ideas in pretty boys."

"You inspire me to find away to achieve peace." He amended, then raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Wait, pretty?"

She looked him over critically, "Hm... yes, decently pretty. There's room for improvement."

"Hey..." He frowned, pouting a little, "Where?"

"Hm..." She propped herself up on her elbows, examining him closely, "You need a haircut or to at least brush that mop. And you look _so_ tired."

"I haven't been sleeping well." He admitted, glancing up at the top of the hill like it may fill up with enemy soldiers if he didn't constantly keep watch.

"Not well or not at all." She snorted, frowning when he hesitated before answering, "Mal..."

"Not at all really. Not since we last heard from Annabeth." He mumbled sheepishly.

"Malcolm! That was three days ago!" She scolded, "No wonder you need inspiration! Your mind can hardly function well on no sleep!"

"Hey! It's not like I haven't been trying!" He protested.

"Come here." She ordered, patting the ground beside her until he reluctant moved to sit beside her. "Good, now lay down."

He made a small sound of protest, but lay in the grass anyways. Lou lay back next to him, slightly on an angle to him so she could rest her head on his chest easily. He waited a moment for her to say something, but she didn't. "Lou... what are you doing?"

"I'm inspiring peace." She told him, "Close your eyes."

"Why?" He groaned.

She lifted her head slightly to give him a "duh" look, "We're taking a nap."

"I don't have time to take a nap!" He protested. "I have to... to..."

"Rome can wait." She told him, "Just fifteen minutes."

"Rome will not wait." He huffed, but he closed his eyes anyways. She was right about one thing, she did inspire peace in him, he felt calmer than he'd been in weeks, there was something almost soothing about the weight of her leaning on his chest. Before he knew it, he was drifting off and it was a lot later than fifteen minutes when he woke.

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 **Okay so these seem to be ending up as sort of connected, which is interesting. The next one is definitely connected.**


End file.
